


A Punishment

by FirepoweredTulip



Series: Beyond the Mirror [1]
Category: 2P Hetalia - Fandom, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Decapitation, Gen, Implied necrophilia at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 01:18:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1449958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FirepoweredTulip/pseuds/FirepoweredTulip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble-ish. If 2P England is going to lose his head and start a war, then 2P France is going to remove his neighbour's head in a more literal way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Punishment

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the beginning of a series of drabbles and stories centering around the 2P world that I made up about two years ago, when the 2P thing was a bit more popular. This series, I will warn you, will contain just about every trigger warning possible - including violence, sexual abuse, stockholm syndrome, and suicide. So if and when you choose to read the rest(and I will have a warning on them as well), please proceed with caution. 
> 
> This one is relatively tame. I have a warning of character death, but I'm not completely sure if it's necessary. In this story, and most of my Hetalia fics that are set in the canonverse, the nations can regenerate. Holes will heal up quickly, removed organs and arms/legs will grow back, and as long as the head is close enough to the neck, it'll reattach. So technically Artus isn't really dead. Kinda. Sorta. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!
> 
> ~~~~

“No, no, please don’t!” The terrified scream rang out, seeming to echo throughout the town. The redhead thrashed in his hold, but it was the strength of a fourteen year old versus the strength of two twenty-something years olds. It was useless. His screams were useless, as well. No one spoke English, nor did they really care. It was all just a show to him.

“Artus, calm down.” The Frenchman standing off to the side shook his head, seeming disappointed in the redhead’s behaviour. He himself wasn’t much older than sixteen or seventeen, but held himself like a man much, much older than that. As the two men carried Artus up to the platform, the Frenchman stepped aside. This resulted in more struggling from the Englishman, and more frantic screams.

“I can’t calm down! How do you expect me to calm down when you going to do this!?” Artus snapped, his blue eyes wide in terror. “Francois, please!”

Francois chuckled, a dark, evil sound that brought shivers down Artus’ spine. “It seems like a fitting punishment to me, after what you’ve done,” he spoke.

“Your king kept taking my land!”

“Which you still won’t be taking back, even after this huge war you started.” Francois gestured to the two men holding Artus, signalling for them to set him up on the guillotine. The entire time Artus spat curses, wishing death on the man he had known since he was a child. Hundreds of years ago.

“I can’t stand you! I hope you bring your entire country down into the dirt! Do you know what that will mean? It will mean that you will die, you French piece of sh—“ Artus’ curses fell short when the blade swung down, separating the Englishman’s head from his body.

Francois grinned, stepping over to the corpse and looking it over. “A nice, clean kill. Very nice. “ He had been worried that the blade had grown too dull recently, and wouldn't fully cut off the head. Luckily, he hadn't had to worry about it.

“What do you want done with the body?” one of the men asked Francois. Considering that Artus wasn’t quite normal, he couldn’t be treated like any normal corpse. In response to the question, Francois’ grin widened and he shook his head.

“I will take care of the body. Don’t you worry,” Francois promised, looking over the body and sitting it up. It was quite nice, when Artus wasn’t ranting and complaining like he usually did.

“And the head?”

Francois paused, looking into the bloodstained basket that held the head. The eyes were still wide with fear and rage, the mouth open wide from how Artus had been screaming just before his death. The Englishman’s cheeks were still wet from his tears. Just perfect. “I’ll take the head, too. It’ll make…a good trophy.” With ease, Francois managed to lift up both the body and the basket that held the head. With Artus out of the way for the time being, Francois could finally have the time of his life…


End file.
